A seemingly insignificant scene stands out in Episode 1 of Dandadan. At the end of their first run with Turbo Granny and the Serpoians in a delicate bit of detailed animation, Momo (Shion Wakayama) leans into Okuran’s (Natsuki Hanae) space and levels him with a swift, playful kick to the back of his legs. This is mimicked again in Episode 2, where an awkward Momo pokes at a bashful Okuran after their first exchange of biting words. Both happen after facing down malevolent forces, yet their greatest hesitancy and connection come in these smaller, personal beats. There’s an unmovable spectacle in Dandadan. But its magic comes through in its character-driven storyline.
The science fiction elements, the wildly eccentric designs of the aliens and spirits, and the slick, kinetic energy of Science Saru all lend themselves to a dizzying production. The elements heighten for a gonzo animated experience where everything is dialed up past 100 as it takes glee in acceleration. We want to get lost in it. It’s truly an artistic triumph with phenomenal, striking coloring, framing, and dynamically explosive direction.
The series buzzes with an energy that literally explodes from Okarun’s fingertips in Episode 2 as Turbo Granny’s (Mayumi Tanaka) power unleashes itself, molting and disfiguring him. But for all of the visual beauty and chaos, it would be hollow without its heart and the profound, endlessly moving relationship between Momo and Okarun.
Dandadan adapts a breakneck speed with cut panels that immediately escalate the stakes and tension. The personal moments where the characters interact or get nervous around one another help anchor the series. Based on the manga written and illustrated by Yukinobu Tatsu, the artistry excels in crafting epic-in-scale backgrounds that tower over other characters as they continually figure out ways to defy the odds. Without the characters at its center and Momo and Okarun’s friendship, they would lose traction. It’s the marriage between character and spectacle that allows it to succeed.
We get a hint of this power in Episode 3, when Momo, worrying about Okarun’s safety, finds him eating alone in a shrine to protect him from Turbo Granny’s curse. One of the outstanding narrative elements of Tatsu’s plotting is how the found family in Dandadan grows organically. Okarun is painfully shy and lonely at the start of the series, ignored and bullied by his classmates. By the end of the premiere, he has a first friend. By the end of the third, he’s being aided by Momo’s grandmother, Seiko (Nana Mizuki).
Episode 3 firmly establishes his once-isolated nature by revealing his being alive. Throughout the series, Okarun shares many meals with Momo and Seiko, and those sitting around Seiko’s table and indulging in her cooking only grow. The found family elements crucially aid in delivering the most emotional moments of the series through established protagonists and newcomers. It finds a shocking depth for a series that could so easily lean on silliness and self-indulgent visuals.
But it’s Momo and Okarun at the center of Dandadan who truly solidify the immense charm. It’s present in the manga as the two dance around friendship and the potential for more, with Okarun, in particular, needing to improve his confidence. There’s a shy, relatable youthfulness in how they explore their new dynamic. It’s a friendship born from circumstance and one where they genuinely get along. They don’t know how to navigate this territory perfectly, but they both know they don’t want to let go of it.
In the anime, their characters reach greater, more distinctive heights due to the voice performances of Shion Wakayama and Natsuki Hanae. Their performances are wonderfully layered and spirited. A lack of restraint imbues them with an infectious energy. It’s perfectly suited to these two oddballs who seek out abandoned buildings, look to the night skies, and wish for aliens to come. Like the animation, the performances refuse to bend or conform to the expected. Through it, they find personalities that further bond the characters. We care about them instantly.
Underneath the mayhem and monsters, Tatsu weaves an excellent coming-of-age story with a potential romance plot at its center. There’s a necessary sweetness that cuts the bite of the initial chapters—a cute quality that helps even the zaniness. In a story that surrounds itself with aliens, yōkai, and mysterious forces, the humans grant it its bumbling heart.
Dandadan is going to be one of the significant anime events of the season. At the rate it’s going, it will likely also be one of the best anime of the year, up there with another series that found the perfect studio for its adaptation (Delicious in Dungeon, obviously). The appeal is immediate, from the stuttering opening notes of the OP and then Momo’s first introduction.
Immersive and visually stunning, with an evident reverence for the source material, it’s an immaculate adaptation. The artwork and direction, the score, and the performances work in tandem to create something that honors the source material while transcending the capabilities of manga into something more tactile and fluid. But, as is the case in the manga, the characters—Momo and Okuran—keep us invested.
Dandadan airs new episodes each Thursday on Netflix.